Every time I put my fingers through my hair, a few more strands cling to my hands. They fall, noiseless, onto my shoulders and attach themselves to my chair and to the back of my car seat. It is beginning, the cycle of chemo has started. My hair, my femininity is starting to erode - the cycle that begins with my hair and ends with my breast has started. I feel strangely calm, almost excited that the chemo is clearly working because if it does this to healthy, fighting cells, what is it doing to evil, twisted, abnormal cells?
The journey has begun in earnest. Ahead of me lie the valleys of fatigue, the mountains of having surgery and radiotherapy, the up hill roads of wigs, hats and scarves until finally, the road opens and I see before me the glorious dappled ocean of All Clear.
I have my bag on my back, a handkerchief on my head and my sunglasses on. Let's go....